


Frolicking

by abstractconcept



Series: Naked Baron [1]
Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Humor, M/M, Naked Baron, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-12
Updated: 2011-12-12
Packaged: 2017-10-27 06:22:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/292586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abstractconcept/pseuds/abstractconcept
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You can't call yourself an elf if you don't frolic. Part of the Naked Baron series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frolicking

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the kink meme prompt: Sometimes Fenris gets all the angsty bits. I want to see more of his sense of humor. Let's see him teasing Hawke!

Hawke enjoyed Wicked Grace nights on occasion, not because of the money (he was actually pretty thrifty, apart from splurging on weapons and armour) but because he enjoyed being with the others in a relaxed atmosphere. Which was somewhat different from the usual oh-shit-a-dragon-is-going-to-eat-us atmosphere. Not that Hawke didn’t enjoy that too—it certainly got the blood going—but it was good to relax.

He especially liked nights out with Fenris. This was as close as they usually got to an actual date (if you didn’t count tracking down and killing various people who’d hurt Fenris in the past, anyway). And it was so nice to unwind a bit. Hawke loved nights like these, when Fenris might unbend enough to engage in some kind of public display of affection or even (wonder of wonders!) make a dry joke or two.

Tonight they were playing Merrill and Varric. Hawke would have put all his money on Varric winning, but that wasn’t how Wicked Grace worked, alas.

“What exactly do you do, Merrill?” Hawke asked. He was wondering how the elf survived. She appeared mostly to subsist on air and positive thinking, and never seemed to do anything to make money. _Of course_ she misunderstood the question.

“Oh . . . I wander the city. I read a lot, and try to learn more about my ancestors. I work on the Eluvian. And I follow you, of course,” Merrill said, rearranging her cards. “And I frolic. That’s important. Mustn’t forget to frolic.”

“Is the frolicking mandatory?” Hawke asked, amused.

“It is. You aren’t allowed to call yourself an elf if you don’t frolic,” she answered very seriously.

“That can’t be true,” Varric interrupted as Hawke hid his smile by drinking some ale. “Fenris doesn’t frolic.”

Fenris didn’t look up from his cards. “Of course I frolic,” he replied gravely. “I wouldn’t be an elf if I didn’t frolic.”

“And where, exactly, do you frolic?” Varric demanded.

“In the bedroom. With Hawke,” Fenris deadpanned.

Hawke spewed his ale across the table. Varric laughed and slapped the coughing Champion on the back.

“My apologies,” Fenris said, though his smile was teasing.

“Don’t worry,” Hawke spluttered. “It’s probably better that I don’t actually swallow anything from the Hanged Man anyway.”

“He’s more likely to spit than swallow in any case,” Fenris told Varric dryly. He gave Hawke a wink.

Hawke laughed. “You’re being very bad tonight,” he said.

“Then you’ll have to reprimand me thoroughly later in private,” Fenris replied airily. Hawke suspected he had a good hand. He tended to get frisky when his luck was good.

Varric must have sensed the same thing, because he folded. “You two have the strangest euphemisms sometimes,” he mused.

“Not as strange as yours. I’ve read your books," Fenris retorted.

“Touché.”

“Well, I think it’s very sensible of you to frolic in the bedroom,” Merrill said. “I expect it’s more private that way.”

“Except when the Baron next door is looking through the window,” Fenris agreed.

“Where do you do it?” Merrill asked. “I suppose not in the wardrobe. There wouldn’t be room in the wardrobe. And I expect you wouldn’t want to try it atop the nightstand, in case you knocked things over. I’m always knocking things over when I’m frolicking.”

“Er . . . we generally do it in the bed,” Fenris said. Varric snorted. Fenris gave him an arch look. “We HAVE found the wardrobe a little too confining. Though occasionally we’ll frolic in the library or the kitchen if the mood takes us and there’s no one about.”

“Oooo, I wouldn’t _dare_ to frolic in the kitchen. Much too dangerous, with all those sharp, pointy things about.” Merrill sighed, looking at her cards. “I fold. I have a terrible hand.”

Fenris looked at Hawke, who raised his eyebrows. “Does it matter whether I fold or call?” Hawke said. “I can lose my money to you now or spend it on you later; it’s pretty much the same thing.”

Fenris grinned. “You just have a bad hand and don’t want to admit it.”

Merrill craned her neck to see. “His hands look fine to me, but I don’t think his cards are very good. He only has one serpent, a lady, and a couple of the red ones.”

Hawke spread his cards on the table. They really weren’t very good. Then again, he’d been distracted by the idea of Fenris frolicking. Take away the innuendo and you were left with _very_ odd mental images, though the man did tend to walk a bit like he was prancing. Fenris was, undeniably, light on his feet.

Fenris didn’t seem to notice. He scooped up his winnings. “Third win tonight,” he said smugly. He looked up at Hawke with a provocative gleam in his eye. “Want to head home and . . . _frolic?_ ”

Hawke wasn’t going to say no to _that_ offer. “Absolutely,” he said. “We’ll stop and buy a nice bottle of wine on the way home. Something that just screams ‘time to frolic.’”

Fenris chuckled. “I’ll buy,” he said, following Hawke to the door. “Goodnight,” he added to Varric and Merrill over his shoulder.

“Have fun frolicking!” Merrill called after them. “Don’t forget to use plenty of lubricant! I know it’s not the same for boys as it is for girls,” she added to Varric.

“ _Daisy!_ ” Varric exclaimed, taken aback. “You mean—you realize—frolicking means—”

“Of course,” Merrill answered. She sounded surprised. “Didn’t you know what it meant?”

Varric laughed. “Thanks for the education,” he said. He scratched his chin thoughtfully. "I'm going to have to work this into one of my stories. The world needs more stories about what Hawke and his broody lover get up to!" he called after them.

 

Fenris gave him a smile and waved goodbye. "You can go frolic yourself," he replied.


End file.
